


Painstaking

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, References to Depression, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underswap Papyrus, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Edge should know better than to come home unannounced. That's why they invented texting.





	Painstaking

**Author's Note:**

> In a fandom full of magic and monsters, I seem to want to write them as adorable and domestic. I'm not sure what this says about me, but I'm okay with it.

* * *

It was just after noon when Edge walked in the door and he hadn't even had a chance to take off his shoes when Stretch appeared out of nowhere so quickly that Edge yelped, staggering back a step and reflexively conjuring an attack.

Despite the jagged bones directed at him, Stretch didn't so much as flinch, and to Edge's mind that could be a testament to either trust or stupidity, possibly both. Instead, he shuffled from foot to foot, wringing his hands together. "babe! you’re home early! are you staying or just picking something up? or, wait, are you sick? if you’re sick you should head right upstairs."

He grabbed ahold of Edge's arm, hardly glancing at the bones that faded around them and tugged. Edge didn’t move, rocking on his feet as Stretch yanked with increasing insistence, trying to pull him towards the stairs. 

"Why are you sweaty?" Edge asked suspiciously. He took in Stretch's grubby hoodie and his anxiousness and added, more resigned, "What have you done?"

"nothing!" Stretch yelped in exactly the guilty tone that Edge knew so very well. "i haven’t done anything and even if i had it’s only because i love you and i would be fixing it immediately."

This meant nothing good. "I came home early," Edge said with slow deliberateness, "to get the paperwork that I left on the table and I thought that while I was here we could have lunch together."

"lunch," Stretch said weakly. "lunch sounds great, that'd be great. uh, why don't you sit down and get your paperwork together and i'll bring lunch out here."

"You could burn a salad by looking at it, I'm not about to let you make lunch."

"oh, come on, i can make sandwiches," Stretch said indignantly. Far too much indignation; he was overplaying his hand, which meant he was scrambling for a lie. He was standing between Edge and the kitchen with the kind of casual indifference that Edge recognized from a lifetime of living with Red and a shorter time with Stretch. 

Gently but firmly, Edge took Stretch by the shoulders and moved him to the side. 

"don’t go in there yet!" Stretch blurted, "i’m totally fixing it and i know how you get."

It was tempting to simply turn around and walk back out the door. He could go back to the embassy with his paperwork and order lunch in. There was a new deli that had opened nearby with delivery and several other Monsters had recommended it to him, particularly their cranberry and goat cheese salad. 

He could leave and when he came back tonight there was a fairly high chance that things would be at relative normal and he'd never have to know.

Edge had never been fond of deliberate ignorance. He walked past Stretch and into the kitchen.

Stretch didn't follow him, sighing to himself as he contemplated testing how exactly how far he could teleport in a single instance.

A minute passed, two, and Edge came back out at a far quicker clip than he'd gone in. His eye lights were pinpricks of red and Stretch swallowed hard as Edge stormed up to him, his face only an inch away when he gritted out through his teeth, "I have no idea what you think you are doing but you will fix my kitchen and it will be pristine by the time I get home or your brother will be sprinkling _you_ over tacos tonight!" 

The last was said at a shout and he stalked out without even grabbing his paperwork, the door slamming behind him.

"yeah, i knew you’d be like that," Stretch sighed.

* * *

It was past midnight when Edge returned. Far later than he'd meant but every time he'd considered finishing for the day, he recalled the state of his kitchen and anger had risen again, hot and glinting just outside of his vision. 

Really, it had been a very long day. Lunch had been a hasty sandwich since he'd had to redo the paperwork he'd refused to return home for and dinner missed entirely. When he opened the front door, the house was still and silent. He took the time to take off his shoes and line them up by the door, once again contemplating ignorance. If he went upstairs and Stretch was in bed, he could simply assume his kitchen was back to its normal state. He could go to sleep or perhaps wake his lover up, and a sleepy, willing Stretch was temptation itself, all languid smiles and touches.

But Edge had skipped dinner, he was hungry, and ignorance for him was never bliss.

He hesitated at the kitchen door, taking a deep, steadying breath before pushing it open. The first thing he noticed was that Stretch was asleep on the floor and perhaps someone else would have found that concerning. It was far from the strangest place Edge had found him sleeping, though, and Edge only stepped over him irritably, taking in the state of his kitchen.

The sink was empty but not wiped out, soap scum dried on the stainless steel. When he opened a few cupboards, he noted dishes haphazardly put away in the wrong spot, stacked in ways that promised to tumble them onto the head of the first person who attempted to pull anything out. Worst of all, when he opened the fridge, he noted the foil-cover pan that told him dinner hadn’t been cooked; which meant Stretch had eaten junk all day and Edge wouldn’t even be able to eat leftovers tonight.

The temper that had hovered on the edge of his perception all day flared again and Edge forced himself to breathe through it. Shouting would be pointless; it was late and he was tired, that alone increased the likelihood of him saying something he'd regret later and all it would accomplish was burdening him with an increasingly morose lover. At best, Stretch would simply stand there and take it, his eye lights on the floor as he absorbed every single thing Edge said, internalizing it to utilize later in moments of depressive self-abuse. At worst, Stretch would shout back and…well. Thinking of the aftermath of those arguments was enough to cool his temper back to bearable levels. 

He would never say it, he could _never_ say it, but there were dark, bitter moments when Edge wished he'd fallen in love with someone less prone to depression. That just once he could be the one to have a bratty tantrum without having to deal with the fallout.

Edge sighed wearily; that was nothing but useless conjecture. He hadn't and he couldn't and that was the end of it. For tonight it would be better to simply go to bed and let sleep provide some distance. Tomorrow he'd be better equipped to deal with this. He turned back to the door, planning on leaving Stretch to sleep on the floor in a fraction of petty revenge when he glanced at the stove and frowned.

A sloppy bow was tied on the handle of the oven. Gingerly, he pulled it open and there was an envelope sitting on the rack. He opened it and found a card, Stretch’s messy handwriting made painstakingly legible, _'Congratulations on your ~~college graduation~~ new convection oven!'_

Oh.

When they'd first moved in together, Edge had picked this oven after agonizing over the appliances because he wanted them all to match and he'd been frustrated that he couldn’t find a convection oven that worked with his chosen color scheme. It was silly, ridiculous, he knew, and still important enough to him that he'd reluctantly gone without.

A glance confirmed that it was the same oven, but with careful modifications. A new dial had been added, matched perfectly with the others. Edge wasn’t sure where Stretch had found the parts or even when he'd started planning this, but then the mess of his workshop was always past Edge's comprehension.

Inside the card was a handwritten pamphlet that had directions for use and a recipe for lemon bars with 'hint hint' printed in a border around it. The card itself said only, _'Happy I love you day!'_ Beneath it was doodled a truly awful cartoon of two stick figure skeletons hugging and a speech bubble that said 'I love you'.

Carefully, Edge set the card on top of the range. He looked down where Stretch was curled up asleep on the floor and gingerly settled down to sit next to him. Stretch always looked like he was halfway to falling asleep but this close Edge could see he actually looked exhausted, dark shadows under his sockets.

It took a little effort to pull Stretch into his lap, as if sleeping gave him weight. He blinked, drowsily startled, relaxing when he saw it was Edge. He cuddled in with all the gangly awkwardness that Edge knew so well, and yet somehow it always worked, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces.

"hrrm?" Stretch yawned. He gave Edge a muzzy smile, still more asleep than not, "oh, hey, babe. did I clean up the kitchen okay?"

"It’s perfect," Edge said honestly and kissed him.

-finis-


End file.
